Needing to Feel
by Indigo Angels
Summary: Face is reeling after Sosa's departure. When he starts free-falling it is up to the team to catch him, the question is will they do it before he hits the ground? Rated for language. Final chapter now posted!
1. Chapter 1

It was BA who found out first, he was tinkering around in the motor pool, filling in a bit of down time, when one the mechanics, Baby Dave to all who knew him, slapped him on the back, "Hey, heard about the Ice Queen ditching your buddy there, BA, hell – bet he never saw that one coming!"

BA had turned slowly and fixed the guy with a stare that was obvious in its meaning and Baby's eyes opened wide as the blood drained from his features, "Shit man, I thought you'd know..."

"When?" BA barked, already packing his tools up.

"Monday? Tuesday? Dunno really... It was the day you guys got back from Basra – she'd already gone, left him a note." The mechanic spread his hands as BA shot another look at him, "I know – that's just chicken shit."

"Where'd she go?" BA didn't really care, as far as he was concerned it could never be far enough.

"D.O.D." Baby replied, carefully extracting himself from the situation. He liked BA a lot, but he knew about his temper, and there was no way he wanted to be around if the big guy needed to vent, "She was always on the up, that one." He smiled apologetically and turned to leave the garage, vowing that next time he would just keep his big mouth shut.

BA hefted his tool bag over his shoulder and headed out behind him. "D.O.D..." he muttered to himself as he steered himself towards Hannibal's tent, he really _didn't_ care where she had gone – he'd never liked the bitch and she'd never been right for Face - but it was important because they had a bit of a problem here. Face had got his Dear John letter the day they got back from Basra, Monday, and - here was the bite – none of them had seen him since. Today was Saturday.

Hannibal was out of his seat before BA had finished relaying him the story, "So, where the hell is he then?" he asked, BA could only shrug uselessly. He squeezed the bridge of his nose; they all thought Face was holed up in Sosa's tent these last few days, he'd done it before, they were on seven days down time and Hannibal had just expected him to come home at the very last minute, moaning about his aches and pains and how he hadn't had much sleep at all in the last week. Hannibal didn't like it, but he certainly wasn't going to put a stop to it. At least now Face was with Sosa they knew where he was, knew he wasn't going to get himself into any trouble by messing with someone else's girl and knew they could find him when something came up without having to resort to knocking on random tents. They'd done that once before and afterwards Face had found himself confined to his quarters for the rest of the month.

"Right," Hannibal snapped into action. "Get Murdock, get out and ask around, someone must know something. Try the Officer's Mess," he stalked towards the door, BA on his heels.

"What you gonna do, Boss?

Hannibal's face was grim, "I'm gonna go and see Russ."

In the four minutes it took Hannibal to walk round to Morrison's tent he'd changed his mind backwards and forwards eight separate times. If Face had gone AWOL attempting to chase Sosa state side, telling Morrison was akin to signing Face's discharge papers himself... But then if he hadn't, and Hannibal really, really hoped his lieutenant had more sense than that, well, Russ could open doors and get answers a damn sight faster than Hannibal could.

But then... Morrison had only just started to see Face as an asset and not a liability, he'd taken a long time to work out why Hannibal rated the kid so highly, and he really didn't want to jeopardise that new found respect. But - if Face was in trouble, they'd really need Russ on side. Hannibal rubbed his hands roughly over his face as he made his decision just as Morrison himself stalked around the corner and almost collided with him.

"Hannibal!" Morrison looked surprised to see his old friend, "I was just on my way to see you," his expression darkened slightly, "You heard from Face recently?"

An hour and a half later Hannibal scowled his way back through the camp and into his tent. Murdock and BA jumped to their feet as he entered and could tell from the look on his face that his evening had been more productive than theirs, but not necessarily in a good way.

"Boss?" Murdock prompted as Hannibal poured himself three stiff fingers of scotch.

They waited in silence as their colonel drained his glass in one before he turned and fixed them with a hard stare. "He's fine. He'll be back tonight."

There was obviously more and so they waited, letting Hannibal get round to it in his own time. He stared at the bottom of his empty glass for a long minute before finally continuing, "He's been out with Croxton's boys on a mission. Apparently they were one short and Face stepped up." BA and Murdock traded a surprised glance but nothing could prepare them for what came next. "Croxton's just been on the wire to Russ; he wants Face to transfer – permanently."

As Murdock and BA stood in stunned silence, Hannibal stormed past them and back out into the night air.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal's stomach had clenched uncomfortably when Face had finally shown up just shy of midnight. If he was surprised to see his CO sitting waiting for him in his quarters then he certainly didn't show it, just threw his kit bag down on the floor, collapsed on the cot and muttered, "Hey, Hannibal, can't whatever this is wait? I'm bushed..."

Hannibal slowly rose to his feet giving his lieutenant a quick visual once over. Russ had assured his old friend that Face was fine, 'relatively unscathed' was the actual phrase he had used, but Hannibal wouldn't believe it until he had seen it for himself. His eyes took it all in, the dirt and the grime, the scratches and the bruises, the grubby bandage around his head where the bullet had grazed his temple. "Well, you would be," Hannibal's voice was tightly bound but obviously bristling with anger, "I've heard all about your busy few days."

Face cracked an eye open, the one furthest from the bullet wound, to look at him. "You pissed at me, Boss? 'Cause Croxton said it was okay, said he would square it with you when we got back, it was all pretty last minute you know..." He yawned widely and Hannibal noted the wince as it obviously pulled at the graze on his head.

"Don't worry about that, kid, I'll talk to Croxton in the morning." He'd do more than talk to the devious old goat. Croxton knew damn well you weren't supposed to 'borrow' from another CO without squaring it with said CO first, he'd just moved in on Face to try and rub Hannibal up the wrong way, hell, they'd been doing that to each other since the academy, but this time he'd gone too far. Had he known that Sosa had dumped Face that very morning? Or had it just been a happy coincidence that had meant the lieutenant was only too happy to hare off on some half-arsed scheme of Croxton's less than twenty four hours after returning from one of his own? Hannibal supposed he would never know, but he certainly had his suspicions.

And then Hannibal also intended having a chat about said half-arsed scheme. The one that, according to Russ, had seen Face tearing, unarmed, through a village filled with insurgents, on a dirt bike, no helmet, no body armour, yelling and whooping like a mad man, just to provide Croxton with a diversionso he could sneak in and pick up a few targets that intel suggested had some interesting news to share.

Hannibal's blood boiled. It was a stupid, high risk plan, and Hannibal was frankly amazed that Face had come home at all. The whole thing could have been pulled off with so much more grace and finesse if he'd planned it. Hannibal had ranted at Russ, Croxton had lost so many men from his units over the years, what the hell was he doing, still planning shit like this and getting away with it? And while that fact alone was enough to fire Hannibal up and get his blood pressure rising, what really freaked him out and made his gut clench in absolute primal terror, was the fact that Face had actually agreed to do it...

He glanced back down at his now sleeping Lieutenant and ground his teeth in worry, there was some bad shit going on here, and Hannibal had the uncomfortable feeling that it was only going to get a lot worse.

Face wasn't around for breakfast and Hannibal was just about to go and pound on Croxton's head to get some answers when he showed up, short of breath, drenched in sweat, new, but already grubby bandage around his head. "Hey guys," he said, sliding onto the bench next to BA, "We got any bacon today?"

"Where've you been Face?" Murdock asked him, his voice the very model of open and inquisitive.

"Running," Face answered without making eye contact, "Decided to get up early, have a run, you know. Its good for you." He reached across the table and snagged the juice, filling a beaker and draining it in one.

"Sorry about Sosa, man." There. It was out. Trust BA to be the first one with balls enough to actually just come out and _say _it.

Hannibal had been watching carefully and had seen the flinch, the quick tightening around Face's eyes before it was gone, replaced with the easy smile, the one he used to con salesmen, depot managers oh... and women. "Hey," he beamed at BA, "Easy come easy go, big guy. Plenty more fish in the sea an' all that!"

Nobody smiled back. BA folded his arms across his chest. Murdock took his cap off and folded it nervously in his hands. And Hannibal leaned back against the wall from the end of the bench, one ankle resting on his knee, his eyes steady on Face. Face's grin faltered for a second before it was firmly back in place, "God," he said brightly as he rose to his feet, "I had no idea I was this sweaty! I must stink to high heaven... Gonna hit the showers. Later guys..." And he left.

There was ten seconds of silence before BA spoke up, "He's full of shit, Hannibal."

Hannibal nodded in reply as Murdock leant towards him, "Is he gonna be okay for the job, Boss?"

Silence descended as Hannibal thought this through. He could see from the desperate look in Murdock's eyes and BA's scowl that neither of them wanted to do this job without Face, and really neither did Hannibal. Added to that was what it would do to Face to be shunted off the mission; it would not only crush any dregs of self confidence he had left following his run in with the Ice Queen, it would probably send him running straight back to Croxton as well. But Hannibal needed to be careful, there was no way that he could risk taking Face out on a job if his head was off with Sosa some place. No way at all.

He realised that both his boys were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, some reassurance that Hannibal just couldn't give. He shook his head as he rose from the table. "I don't know. We'll have to see."

It wasn't the answer anyone wanted.

Tuesday night found them clustered round the table in Hannibal's quarters going over the plan for the last time before their pre-dawn start. Face was there, listening intently, playing his part very well. Hannibal ground his teeth together as he watched his lieutenant running his eyes over and over the map, committing every detail to memory, just like he always did. But this was _not_ just like he always did. There were no quips, no snarky comments, no moans about how he always got the shit jobs to do, no congratulating Hannibal on the most badass plan ever, no bickering with the others over who did what. Nothing. Just silence, concentration and model soldier behaviour. That was not like Face.

He'd been like this since Sunday which is why Hannibal had kept him on the mission; he really had no solid evidence to defend a move otherwise. That's not to say that Hannibal wasn't worried, Face wasn't himself, it annoyed him that he didn't know what this meant, because he knew that the shit was going to hit the fan sooner or later.

They were about two thirds of the way through the plan before it all went FUBAR. It was no one's fault really, intel was never perfect and Hannibal couldn't blame the intel guys for not knowing that this particular band of insurgents had a stolen Russian tank hidden in a cave. Didn't mean he didn't _want_ to blame them, mind.

So they found themselves hunkered down in a crater made by a long distant bombing raid while the tank made long curving sweeps backwards and forwards across the sand steadily hunting them down.

"Man, we are in the shit!" BA grumbled, risking a look over the edge of the crater as the tank swept away from them for now. He bent down to rub at his knee, twisted painfully from stumbling on the uneven ground and Hannibal tried not to let it freak him out.

"Focus, BA," he ordered, his voice calmer than it should be, given the circumstances.

Murdock's eyes were flicking frantically around him, looking a little too wild for Hannibal's comfort, while Face was crouched at the front of the crater, still and steady, his eyes on the tank the whole time.

Hannibal took his own advice and forced himself to focus as he listed their assets in his head. He made it; himself, Face, he really didn't feel he could count in either BA or Murdock at this point, some limited ammo and maybe five or six grenades. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Okay, he'd got it. They'd need to sit tight and hope the dark would hide them long enough for the tank to get by, and then once they were behind it, there was a rocky escarpment about half a mile away, and Hannibal knew if they reached that they would have some cover and somewhere to hide. _If we reach it..._Hannibal thought treacherously as he noted BA wincing as he moved his knee and Murdock's wild stare once more.

"Right, guys, listen up," he hissed at them, trying to make his voice sound a lot more confident than he felt.

But Face beat him to it, "It's alright Boss," he whispered over his shoulder, "I've got this one," and promptly leaped out of the crater.

"Face!" Hannibal yelled making a grab for his lieutenant's ankle, but he was too late and Face was suddenly zig zagging across the desert, running low and fast and heading straight for the tank. "Fucking IDIOT!" Hannibal stormed, checking his ammo and flicking his safety off as he shuffled to his feet in the crater, "What the FUCK does he think he is doing? Come on guys, we're moving out..." But at that point the tank changed direction yet again and started heading straight for them and Hannibal realised that the second anyone raised their heads from that crater, they'd be blown to pieces. "Shit!" he muttered and ducked down once more, dragging the other two with him and watching Face as he tracked nearer and nearer to the tank.

"Man! What's his plan?" BA stormed from next to him and Hannibal could almost taste the fear radiating off him.

Hannibal couldn't answer so they sat tight and watched instead as Face darted closer and closer.

It was obvious the exact second he was spotted as shouting could be heard from the inside of the tank and the gun barrel suddenly started to rotate towards him. Face was faster of course and kept ahead of the barrel's progress as he sprinted through the sand. Gunshots cracked out, echoing in the early morning air and Hannibal realised that the occupants of the tank had opened a pistol port and were blindly shooting rounds off into the darkness. Face, however, always kept himself carefully out of the range of both the turret and the pistol port and just kept moving, zigging and zagging as he went but continually eating up the sand between him and tank.

The shouts from inside the tank started to get more and more frantic as Face came closer. "Oh, shit..." Hannibal mouthed as a sixth sense suddenly told him what was coming. Right on cue, the hatch of the tank popped and a silhouette, clearly dressed in a keffiyeh and toting a machine gun, rose up out of the tank. Face threw himself to the side as bullet tore up the sand at his feet. Hannibal was right there though, and the next second the insurgent dived back into the tank as Hannibal's returning fire exploded around him.

Face was back on his feet even as Hannibal was still shooting. His tracking now abandoned, he sprinted at full pelt straight at the tank and at the last minute leapt up and clung tightly to the side of the thing itself.

"Motherfucker..." BA whispered as they watched Face reach up and toss something into the still open hatch of the tank. One... two... three... four... dark shapes left his hand, easily discernible in the quickly brightening dawn, before he jumped back down again and took off, sprinting for all he was worth back towards the crater.

"Get down," Hannibal yelled, pushing BA and Murdock to the bottom of the crater.

"Cover your ears!" BA added to Murdock, catching on much quicker than the pilot, "This is gonna be one helluva bang!"

"Come on, Face..." Hannibal whispered, peering cautiously over the rim of the crater, hands over his head, "Come on...!"

Face was sprinting towards them, his features alight with a manic grin, his eyes wide and totally jazzed up, "Alpha!" he yelled as he came closer, "Mike!" Hannibal ducked down into the crater, shuffling back so that Face had room to land, "Foxtrot!"

It sounded as if the world itself had exploded.

Hannibal had ended up on top of BA and Murdock and he held still as dirt and shrapnel rained down on them from above. It seemed to go on for hours and hours, but could only have been seconds before the onslaught from the skies stopped and he felt his team members shift underneath him.

"Murdock, BA, you okay?" Hannibal started coughing as he inhaled a whole lung full of dust.

"Yeah, Boss, yeah... we're fine." BA sat up, wiping the grit from his eyes and looking strange to be so pale skinned with all the fine dust covering him.

"That was one big firework," Murdock muttered, seemingly back with them for now.

"Where the hell is that crazy fool, Hannibal?" BA muttered as he and Hannibal hauled each other to their feet, and for once Hannibal knew he didn't mean Murdock.

Hannibal couldn't answer, he didn't trust his voice to speak as, like BA, he had already noticed that Face hadn't made it back to the crater in time. They lifted their heads up and peered through the dust and debris at the mangled caterpillar tracks that were all that was left of the tank. Hannibal's stomach rolled as he noticed lumps that could only be body parts littered around and wondered how long he could put off examining them.

"Hey!" BA suddenly shouted, and Hannibal whirled on the spot to see where BA was pointing. There, about twenty metres further behind them was the unmistakable outline of a person laid in the dirt. BA tried to scramble up the sides of the crater but hissed out in pain the second he put any weight onto his twisted knee. Murdock grabbed at him to stop him from falling but Hannibal just scrambled past them both. In seconds he was running across the desert, stumbling over chunks of rock and smoking metal, his ears ringing and his heart pounding.

It was Face. With ten metres to go Hannibal recognised his lieutenant and also registered that he did seem to be in one piece. So far so good. But with five meters to go, however, he noticed that he was shaking, he was laid on his side, back to Hannibal and convulsing strongly. Fear shot through Hannibal's system, he knew that serious head injuries could cause fits, and those type of head injuries weren't that easy to recover from either...

He skidded to his knees at his lieutenant's side and gently grabbed at his shoulder, leaning over to look into his features, "Face! Face! Can you hear me!"

The shuddering was still there, stronger even and Hannibal was confused because there was no blood, and Face's eyes were open and he was _smiling_ and... suddenly it hit him.

"Oh, shit Boss!" Face was laughing so much that tears were running down his cheeks, leaving clean streaks through the dust, "You should have seen your face! I wish I'd had a camera!" He rolled onto his back, laughter ringing out across the desert.

Hannibal stood as if stung. He rose to his feet and strode away all in one fluid motion. "Fucking JACKASS!" he yelled as he stomped off, passing a thoroughly confused Murdock and BA.


	3. Chapter 3

"What in fuck's name were you thinking?" Hannibal yelled into his lieutenant's face.

Face had known this was coming. From the second he had leapt out of that crater he had known, even before he had had his fit of hysterics that had seemingly finished Hannibal off. But he didn't really care. Any other time Hannibal had bawled him out, Face had had to bite his tongue, sit tight on all the pithy little comments that come so easily to him, but now, somehow this wasn't even reaching him, it was like he was just watching all this on a movie.

"The truth is you weren't thinking at all were you? Just full of the jazz and so fucking arrogant that you think you can do what you want!"

_Yeah, yeah, yeah..._ Face just stared at the wall, he'd heard all this before.

"You ever heard of _orders,_ lieutenant?"

"I don't remember being ordered not to engage the enemy!" It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "_Sir_," he added quickly.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed, "Don't get smart with me, Peck," he knew using Face's surname would cut, "The idea, as you know full well, is you don't do _shit_ until you are ordered to!"

Face flashed a resentful look at his CO. That wasn't the way things worked around here and Hannibal damn well knew it. He had always respected his team for their initiative and encouraged them to work with events as they happened.

But Hannibal was on a roll, "And that also includes pissing off with another unit! What the fuck you thought you were doing following Croxton's crap I have no idea, but it nearly ended with you getting your fucking brains blown out!" He gestured wildly at the long graze across Face's forehead."You _do not_ do anything like that unless I _expressly_ allow it! Is that clear?"

Face narrowed his eyes but remained staring at the wall.

"I said, lieutenant, Is. That. Clear?" Hannibal was right in his face now, and Face could feel his control beginning to slip.

"Yes," he hissed through his teeth.

"Yes?" Hannibal repeated, expectation thick in his voice.

"Yes, sir, colonel, _sir_!" Face spat, saluting smartly as he did so.

Hannibal took a step back, trying desperately to rein in his anger. It was at times like this that he realised why so many COs had got rid of Face in the two years before Hannibal had taken him on. "Right kid," the affectionate term slipped out without Hannibal even meaning to, "Consider yourself on lock down-"

"Bull shit, Hannibal! That's not fair! I took that tank out! I saved our-"

"Enough!" Hannibal roared and Face swallowed the rest of his complaints. "You were a fucking _liability_ this morning! You disregarded the plan, you acted without orders,"

"I saved us..." Face muttered.

"You acted in a rash and irresponsible way! It's like you had a fucking death wish or something!" For a second, the flinch was back, Hannibal noticed it but was far too riled up to think about what it could mean. "You are off the case for the foreseeable future, I _cannot_ have you charging about like fucking G.I. Joe, risking your own life and the lives of those around you!"

"I _never_ put BA or Murdock at risk!" Face spat back, "I _fucking_ saved them!"

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. _"Do not_ speak to me like that lieutenant," Face flushed slightly, "and I see you don't deny that you took an unacceptable risk with your own life..."

There was no answer to that.

"Lock down lieutenant. Go directly to your quarters, do not leave under any circumstances, do not go to the mess, your meals will be brought to you. Dismissed."

Hannibal turned on his heel and pretended he didn't hear Face muttering, "Do not pass go, do not collect $200..." as he stalked out.

Hannibal thought it would be best if he kept away from Face for a couple of days, they both needed to calm down. But he stopped short of ordering Murdock and BA to stay away as well, he was actually trying to help the kid here, not drive him insane. The more he thought about it, the more he felt uncomfortable about this whole thing. He kept going back to the way that Face had flinched when Hannibal had yelled the death wish comment at him. He thought about Face taking on Croxton's stupid bike stunt, the crazy look he had had in his eyes as he ran from the grenades in the tank, his hysterical laughter in the desert when Hannibal had thought he was dying. The way he had only objected to being told he was risking the lives of his friends and not his own life... It looked like this Sosa thing was cutting pretty deep.

Hannibal hadn't really taken to her either, had been surprised that Face had. She was so... _cool _with him all the time. But maybe that was the attraction for Face. He'd certainly never had to work so hard for a girl before, especially considering that _she_ was the one who had approached him. She'd walked right up to him while they were enjoying a drink after a good job done with two beers in her hands. Ignoring Hannibal, BA and Murdock she had looked right into Face's eyes and said, "You're Face right?" he'd nodded, the smile like quick silver flowing across his features, "I've heard a lot about you. Fancy a beer?" She'd held one of the frosted glasses out to him and he'd taken it without pause. They didn't see him for three days after that.

And that was when it started. It was on, off, on again, off again. One night Face would storm in ranting about her being such a _bitch_, the next, he would disappear with her for days at a time. Three weeks ago, he and Hannibal were drinking scotch in Hannibal's quarters and Face had started rambling on about love, marriage, kids, homes, swings in the garden and wondering how all that fit with the army. Sosa had never struck Hannibal as a 'swings in the garden' type of girl. Maybe that's why she had bolted...

Anyway – whatever had happened, it had obviously left Face reeling, and _that_ was why he was best locked up for now. Save him from himself... Face had _plenty_ of issues with trusting and loving and also _liking_ when it came to himself. Trust Sosa to barrel right in and fuck him all up again when Hannibal had spent fifteen years gluing him together...

By the end of the fourth day, however, he felt enough was enough. He grabbed a bottle of scotch and headed off to Face's quarters. He fully intended to have a chat, not a dressing down, there was no room for army etiquette in tonight's plan, just a chat. But even so, Hannibal did not intend leaving until he was satisfied with what he was hearing. Even if it took him all night.

Fifty metres from Face's quarters he ran into Murdock, or rather, Murdock ran into him, sprinting wilding round the corner of the mess.

"Whoa, soldier! Where's the fire?" he joked as he grabbed Murdock's elbow to stop him falling.

"Oh, hey, Boss," Murdock mumbled.

Hannibal's stomach contracted as he looked at Murdock's face, "What?" he asked, instantly worried.

Murdock sighed, and looked from left to right, almost like he was checking for witnesses before he reached out his arm and held a piece of paper out to Hannibal.

Hannibal frowned as he took it, then read it through, his heart beating faster with every word.

'Murdock – Croxton has a job for me tonight, so I'm skipping school.

See if you can keep the old man off my tail hey?

Thanks buddy - F'

Hannibal had recognised the writing instantly – the neat script the result of many hours writing out prayers, poems, hymns and bible verses under the watchful eyes of the nuns, and he had known what it would say before he'd read a word. _Fuck!_

"Murdock, go get BA, we're moving out." Hannibal was already on the move.

"Sure thing Boss," Murdock was jogging alongside his CO, "When we going?"

"As soon as I've had a little chat with Croxton..." Hannibal murmured, his expression murderous.

Hannibal burst into Colonel Croxton's quarters without knocking. He knew it was rude, but he sure as hell didn't care. "Where the fuck is Face?" he spat, leaning into Croxton's face as he spoke.

Dolph Croxton was three years older than Hannibal, but no one would ever have guessed. Every inch of the guy was hard, toned muscle. Even his face. Nothing about this guy was soft. Especially his personality

"Hannibal!" He twirled an olive on a stick round and round in his Martini glass as Hannibal glowered at him. It certainly said something for Croxton's balls that he didn't flinch a centimetre in the face of Hannibal's obvious fury. "I'm surprised you are back again, I thought we had covered everything that needed covering in our little chat last week?"

"We did," Hannibal spat, "and I told you to stay the hell away from my lieutenant!"

"Hmmm, tricky..." Croxton spun his chair around so he know had his back to Hannibal, and rose, slowly to his feet, "See the problem is, old buddy, that I _did _keep away from him, just like you asked, but then, last night, he turned up here, practically _begging _me to send him out on a job. Said he was going crazy with boredom waiting for you..."

"He was on lock down..." Hannibal hissed through gritted teeth.

"Was he?" Croxton's eyebrows rose in mock surprise, "Didn't know that. Wish I had, would have chased him straight back home again!"

Hannibal took in a deep breath, he didn't have time for this shit. " Where is he Dolph?"

"Sorry, Hannibal," Dolph smiled a cold, snake's smile at him. "Need to know basis. And _you, _old buddy, need to know jack shit!" He turned away, obviously pleased with how the meeting was going.

"We'll fucking see about 'need to know'," Hannibal muttered as he stalked off towards the door.

"Oh – Hannibal!" Croxton's voice stopped him in his tracks but he didn't turn back. "He's shit hot you know, your boy. He'll do anything, no fear, no idea when to stop, fucking awesome..." Hannibal curled his hands into fists. "And I want him in my unit. I asked him you know, after he did such a fucking fantastic job of that bike stunt," Hannibal's pulse was thumping in his ears, "But he said no, said he'd rather stay with you." Hannibal could imagine Croxton shaking his head in a stupid theatrical manner. "Wasn't so sure last night though," a smirk was evident in his voice, "I reckon you sending him to his room like a naughty boy has pissed him off just enough to make him want to jump ship, Hannibal. Your loss – my fucking awesome gain!"

Hannibal took a deep breath and turned his head just enough to glare at Croxton. "No. Fucking. Way," he hissed, every word loud and clear, "You will never get your hands on him Croxton, so just forget it!"

Croxton just laughed, "We'll see, Hannibal. You don't own him you know..."

Hannibal turned and left before he could get into another argument. He knew he didn't own Face – that was stupid. So why did he really feel like he wanted to?

It took a visit to Russ to sort it all out. He wasn't happy with Face ('fucking time bomb' was the phrase this time), but even less so with Croxton and by the time he had forced Dolph to tell Hannibal the details of the mission Face had been sent on, Croxton wasn't happy either.

As a matter of fact, Hannibal was furious as well. The grim satisfaction he had felt at watching Morrison chew Croxton out, evaporated the second that the details of Face's mission had been shared...


	4. Chapter 4

Murdock gripped the back of Hannibal's seat as they bounced along the dirt roads leading out from the camp.

"So, where are we going Boss man?" he yelled, "What's the plan?"

An open top Jeep wasn't the best place for discussing plans, but Hannibal had literally been too furious to speak when he got back from Croxton's quarters and swung by to pick up Murdock and BA. They had signed out the fastest vehicle they could find, and it was only once BA had left the compound far behind that Murdock felt he could risk asking Hannibal about the mission.

"Croxton has sent Face out to meet with an informant of his," Hannibal's face was blank and carefully controlled, but his eyes were still blazing with fury so Murdock knew there was more to come.

"Well, that's not so bad, Boss..."

"On the road to Zahuk."

There was a moment's silence as both BA and Murdock processed this fact before they simultaneously exploded.

"And people say I'm crazy!"

"Zahuk? Man, Hannibal, what's he going there for?" BA hit a pothole in the road as he glanced over at his CO, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Everyone knew about the road to Zahuk; the Marines had nicknamed it 'Kidnap Alley' for obvious reasons. And needless to say, those who were kidnapped from the road generally turned up in the middle of the desert. Minus their heads. Now Murdock knew why Hannibal was so furious.

"So," Murdock leaned further over Hannibal's shoulder to be heard over the noise of the Jeep's engine, "Why Zahuk, Hannibal?"

"Croxton says he's a great informant, but he's got a little twitchy lately. Thinks he's gonna get picked up and brought in. So he's trying to hide out in Zahuk."

Murdock nodded. Well, he could see why the guy thought that, it certainly happened often enough. "But Face has gone in with the unit, yeah? Plenty of back up?"

Hannibal was squeezing the roll bars so tightly his knuckles were white. "No. He's gone in alone Captain. _We're_ the back up."

Murdock felt the air rush out of him and he slumped back in his seat. Face didn't stand a chance.

The plume of smoke drifting up from the bridge and the distant sounds of gunfire alerted the team to the trouble ahead. BA instantly swerved off road and started heading a course in from the west. Hannibal could see that he planned on using the scrubby trees bordering the road to try and get as close to whatever was going on without being spotted. Within two minutes they were as close as they could get and Hannibal jumped down from the Jeep whirling to speak to BA and Murdock as he landed.

"BA, stay with the Jeep, bring it in fast if I holler," BA nodded as Hannibal turned to Murdock, "Take the right, Murdock, see what you can see, but _do not_ engage without my word, okay?"

Murdock snapped off a quick salute and disappeared into the bushes as Hannibal grabbed his gun off his back and headed off towards a low hill to his left.

Night fell quickly in the desert and visibility was already failing as Hannibal pulled his night vision scope from his belt and tried to fasten it on as he ran up the incline. Gunfire sputtered sporadically from the other side of the hill and he doubled his pace, heart thumping hard against his ribs. There was always the chance that this was nothing to do with Face, that this was an internal spat between insurgents or even a patrol caught out in the twilight. But Hannibal doubted that, somehow he just knew this had _everything_ to do with Face.

He reached the top of the hill and threw himself down on the rocky ground quickly scoping out the area below. He yanked the night scope off again as, miracle of miracles, the street lights were actually working, a rare occurrence in these parts, and the dull orange lights lit up a scene of carnage below him.

There was a bridge spanning a dark gully, it was impossible to see what lay in its depths, but Hannibal knew it was a slow and turgid river, occasionally dry when the weather was particularly hot. He could see a car on its roof in the middle of the bridge surrounded by three Jeeps abandoned at angles all around it. As Hannibal squinted against the street lights and tried to work out what was going on, a figure suddenly broke clear from the upturned car and sprinted towards one of the Jeeps Hannibal was instantly on his feet as fresh shots rang out in the night; the running figure had been Face, he was sure of it. The ground on this side of the hill was loose, rocky scree and Hannibal began to slide down the escarpment on his backside, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the melee on the bridge.

The gunshots kept exploding into the night, but Face kept running until he lifted his gun and shot the driver of the Jeep, just as he had raised his gun to shoot at Face. Arabic shouts rang out as he yanked the body out of the way and dived into the driver's seat himself Hannibal was on flat ground now, but kept stumbling as he ran, trying to watch the action on the bridge instead of his feet. Face had obviously been trying to start the car, but as Murphy's Law will always predict, it wouldn't cooperate. Hannibal had scoped the other guys from the other cars moving in, closing Face down and cutting off his exit routes. Fear gnawed at Hannibal's spine as he forced himself to run faster. He wasn't near enough to help yet, but just a few more seconds and he would be, a few more, a few more...

Suddenly one of the guys from the Jeeps made a break for it, charging Face's position, yelling as he went. There was one shot from Face's Jeep that obviously missed its mark and then no more. Hannibal was frantic, wondering why Face wasn't shooting the attacker, wondering why he wasn't driving off, wondering what the _fuck_ was going on and why he couldn't run any damn faster! Suddenly, just as Face's assailant was only metres away from the Jeep, the passenger door burst open and Face flew out. Gunshots followed him as he ran and Hannibal tried to work out what he was doing. And then it hit him – Face was going for the edge of the bridge.

Hannibal knew he was just about in range now, still a little touch and go, but what the hell. He opened fire, blasting at the guys who were blasting at Face and getting them too. But still Face ran. Of course he would Hannibal reasoned later, he didn't know who was shooting, how could he tell that help had arrived in the nick of time? As far as he was concerned, he was running for his life. And then he jumped.

"Shit!" Hannibal saw Murdock appear off to his left and left the captain to watch his back as he threw his gun down and sprinted to the edge of the bridge just in time to see Face disappear into the black nothingness of the gully.

It was almost 11am by the time Murdock returned with the chopper. Hannibal and BA had combed as much of the sides of the gully as they could on foot whilst waiting for the pilot to return, but had turned up a depressing blank. It was a sign of BA's worry that he climbed into the chopper without complaint, although he did look pale and drawn as he fastened his seat belt ridiculously tight.

It was on the third sweep of the gully that Murdock suddenly pointed out the figure slumped against a rock at the water's edge. They were about three miles downstream from the bridge at this point, and Hannibal wasted no time in leaping into the river as Murdock flew as low as he could over the water.

Three minutes later he was dragging himself out of the water next to Face's slumped figure and turning him over to check for signs of life for the second time in a week. This time there was no hysterical laughter; Face was grey and still, with watery blood washed across his forehead, the graze from his first mission for Croxton bleeding freely again. Hannibal wondered if that was a good sign as lay his head on Face's chest, fumbling on his wrist for a pulse at the same time.

Relief broke over him with the force of a Tsunami as he heard a strong thumping heart under his ear and felt the pulse with his finger tips. "Jesus, kid..." Hannibal muttered as he dragged Face's long legs out of the river, "Just what are you trying to pull here?"

Forty eight hours later, Face eased his aching bones off the cot and started dragging his clothes back on. Hannibal had been conspicuous by his absence since he had come round in the medical unit yesterday, and Face had decided to head off before his CO could bawl him out in front of an entire field hospital full of people. He knew he was in deep shit with his CO, Hannibal wouldn't forgive the blatant disregard of his orders easily. But Face really wasn't in the mood for apologies, and he certainly wasn't going to spend the next few days on lock down again if he could help it. He was already restless, it was like electricity was running up and down his veins, burning and fizzing and making him want to just get out and _do_ something. If he went anywhere near Hannibal at the minute he would find himself locked down for probably the rest of his _life_, and he just couldn't stand that. The four days he had spent in his quarters, even with Murdock and BA swinging by as much as they could, had nearly driven him insane. It was easy, when you were running and planning and shit scared and pumped up to the top with adrenalin, to just stop _thinking_ about things. But when you were shut up in your quarters, with the same four walls to stare at all day, thinking was inevitable, and Face really didn't want to go there just now. Or ever really. There were things in his head that he really would just prefer to ignore for the rest of his life; he would take shit scared any day over that. It was in this frame of mind that he found himself outside Croxton's quarters once more, and with a deep breath he steeled himself and knocked.


	5. Final Chapter

It was dark when he finally arrived back at his own quarters, his mood, if possible, even darker than it had been before speaking to Croxton. The colonel had told Face that he was off limits to him now. Morrison had threatened disciplinary action if Croxton poached Face just once more, and as much as the Colonel loved pissing Hannibal off, he certainly wasn't going to risk his career just to fulfil Face's need for adrenalin. Face had bitched and moaned about it for two hours until Croxton had had him thrown out. Dolph Croxton had watched Face scowl and stamp his way out of his quarters and suddenly understood why most other COs wouldn't let Face within three miles of their unit.

Throwing open the door, Face, immediately yanked his t-shirt up over his head and threw it on his cot, reaching to flick the lamp on as he turned. The second the lamp flared into life, banishing the darkness from the room, Face realised he wasn't alone. Hannibal was reclined in a chair, his feet propped up on the table, bottle of scotch and two glasses set out next to his boots. They stared at each other as Face considered just bolting back out the door before Hannibal spoke.

"Hey, kid, don't look so spooked," he swung his boots back to the floor and leaned forward to snag the scotch, "Thought we'd make a bit of a night of it you know? Catch up, crack open the whisky..."

Face's eyes flicked to the glasses that Hannibal was filling – he could really murder a scotch right about now, the itching in his veins was getting worse with almost every minute, but he didn't know if he could do this with Hannibal...

Hannibal held one glass out to his lieutenant, at least he hoped he was still his lieutenant. He was fairly sure that Face had been over to see Croxton again, and he wouldn't put it past that snake to try one more time and lure Face into his suicide unit... But that conversation would have to wait for another time, as the way Face was staring at him right now, he looked just about ready to run for the hills.

"C'mon kid," Hannibal coaxed, "I'm not gonna chew you out, I just want to talk," he stretched further with the glass and Face reflexively drew back slightly.

Hannibal froze and drew back slightly himself. He hadn't seen Face this tightly wound for years and he was beginning freak out a bit himself. It was like trying to corral a skittish horse.

"Kid," he tried again.

"I'm not going to apologise!" Face blurted - taking another step back towards the door, "You think you can just turn up here with a glass of liquor and suddenly I'd be crawling all over you, apologising for going off with Croxton again, for denting your ego, and making you look bad in front of the camp?"

"Face..." Hannibal rose to his feet, "I just want to help. I know this thing with Sosa has-"

"Whoa!" Face held up both his hands and started retreating at pace towards the door, "Don't even go there, Hannibal, I don't need this right now..."

"So what do you need, kid?" Hannibal's voice was one of forced calm as he slowly tracked Face towards the door, "Tell me what it is. C'mon, Face, you can't go on like this..."

"I don't even want to!" Face exploded, "I've had it Hannibal, I've just fucking _had_ it!" His eyes were wild and Hannibal stopped, his hand extended and his face as calm as he could get it. "It doesn't matter what I do or where I go or who I fucking see, its just always the same fucking crock of shit and I just can't do it any more!"

Hannibal was at a loss for words as Face seemed to deflate in front of him, "I've just had enough Hannibal," he muttered as he slipped through the door and ran out, bare chested, into the darkness.

The sky was tinged with pink all around the edges and Hannibal was again struck by how beautiful a war zone could be. All this beauty, his eyes took in the golden undulating dunes all around him, and so much pain... he glanced back towards Face who was slowly making his way back up the side of a massive sand dune, Big Momma, she'd been nicknamed, dragging a beaten old surf board behind him. It was Face that had got the surf board in the first place, God only knows how he got his hands on a surfboard right in the middle of the desert. But since then, the entire camp had spent many a happy hour sand surfing down the dunes. The board had been pristine when Face had brought it into camp strapped to the top of his Jeep, but now it looked old and tired and decidedly worn out. Just like Face himself really.

Hannibal had followed him out of the tent after his outburst last night and had tailed him at a discreet distance, quite frankly scared out of his wits that he was going to do something monumentally stupid. But, after tearing around the camp for twenty random minutes, he had grabbed the board and headed out for the dunes.

It had been a full moon which gave plenty of light to surf by and Hannibal had watched in concern as Face had made straight for Big Momma. No one surfed down Big Momma, she was far to steep, you'd never get a ride right to the bottom and anyway – she was a bitch to climb. But that hadn't put Face off, he'd jumped on the board and immediately found himself with a mouthful of sand as he pitched straight off again, but he just grabbed hold of the board and trudged back up to the top for another go.

Six hours, Hannibal glanced at his watch, six and a half hours actually, later, he was still going. Hannibal could see his bare chest and back scraped raw by the sand, bloody patches on his elbows and still Face had only managed to surf about half way down. He had just reached the top as the sun peeped over the horizon properly for the first time today and the bright, golden rays seemed to just leech the last dregs of strength from his body and he dropped onto his back in the sand. Hannibal sighed, picked up his canteens of water, and headed over to his lieutenant.

Face heard the footsteps approaching and lifted his head, letting it thump back in the sand as he saw his CO. "What you doing here Hannibal?" he muttered, his voice sounding dry and cracked, and not just from the sand.

"Looking out for you, kid," Hannibal replied brightly as he settled himself at Face's side, holding out a canteen.

Face looked at him sideways, then hauled himself up into a sitting position and took the canteen, swallowing the water noisily with his eyes closed against the sun. When he had drunk his fill he lay back once more and let his eyes slide shut again. "I don't need looking out for," he muttered.

Hannibal knew better than to argue, but he just watched Face's ragged breathing slowly settle as he caught his breath in the sun. He had been wondering just how serious Face's attempts to damage himself over this last week had been. At one point Hannibal had almost convinced himself that Face _was_ trying to get himself killed; but no, that wasn't really Face's style. He could have laid down and given up years ago, before he'd even started shaving, but no, he'd chosen to fight and he'd chosen to survive Those kind of life changing decisions aren't rescinded easily.

It was only when he watched him sand surfing last night, dragging himself up every time he fell, climbing back up Big Momma's impossibly steep sides for another go, yelling and whooping every time he got a bit further than the last, it struck him; Face hadn't been looking for a way _out, _he'd just been looking for something intense enough to smother the way he was feeling. Anything had been acceptable: physical pain, sheer terror, crazy exhilaration, any thing other than that crippling ache of rejection. Again.

"It's okay, kid," Hannibal let his hand fall onto Face's shoulder and he squeezed gently, aware of the friction burns that littered the bare skin, "It won't always feel this bad, you'll get through this..."

Face laughed hollowly, "I know I will, Boss," there was a hopeless edge to his voice that tore at Hannibal's emotions, "'cos I've done it before, so many, many times..."

Hannibal glanced at the creases across Face's forehead as he battled with the ghosts in his mind. So many people had walked out on him: two parents, four foster parents, countless friends, one set of potential adoptive parents, one college girlfriend, three COs and, of course, one lady lieutenant. And they were just the people Hannibal knew about. Obviously it would screw with your mind, and it had certainly screwed with Face's. He had some serious trust issues going on, would hold people at arm's length, sometimes even be as obnoxious as possible, just so they would dump him sooner rather than later. Sooner was easier to cope with than later. He'd tried it on with Hannibal for the first year they had worked together Face had worked his way through three COs in two years when Hannibal came across him. Hannibal had vowed he wouldn't be number four.

"I know..." Hannibal murmured as he gently traced the bullet wound across Face's temple.

"Why Hannibal?" Suddenly Face's eyes were open and staring straight at Hannibal with a keen, desperate edge to them. "Why I am so difficult to... stick with...?" Hannibal felt he had shied away from using the word he really meant. "What is it about me that is so damn... _repulsive_... that even my own parents can't stick around? That the things people say to me are just a whole shit pile of lies..." His voice broke over the last word and he sank back into the sand, closing his eyes again.

Hannibal leaned over him, "Listen to me kid," Face screwed his eyes up and turned his head to one side, so Hannibal put his palm flush to the side of Face's cheek and gently turned him back again, keeping up the pressure so that Face didn't turn away. "Open your eyes Face and listen to me," The eyes opened and Face blinked back the treacherous moisture that was pooling there as he focussed on his CO. "I won't lie to you kid, I have no idea why those other people couldn't stick with you, but what I do know, is it wasn't anything to do with _you,_"

"Oh yeah," Face laughed mirthlessly, "The old, 'It's not you it's me' gag Hannibal? Come on..."

"I'm serious kid," Hannibal replied and Face could tell he was. Hannibal's eyes had locked onto Face's and they seemed to burn in their intensity, Face swallowed. "Whatever it was, was _their _fault, not yours, their weakness of character, not yours. I've never met anyone like you in all my days," Hannibal knew that he had never been this honest with Face before, never laid his feelings out on the line so plainly, and he hoped to hell that he wouldn't live to regret it. But the kid _needed_ this, needed to know that there _was_ something for him to blot out the pain. That he didn't need to ride into occupied villages, tackle tanks with his bare hands or throw himself down sand dunes on a thin strip of fibreglass, that if he just let them, then his family, his friends, his _brothers_ would look after him and pull him through. "You are... incredible..." he smiled fondly down at him, "Your loyalty, your hard work, your friendship, your trust... They all mean the world to me, and BA and Murdock. We can't stand seeing you like this, hurting, and not letting us help..." Face squeezed his eyes shut again as they filled with moisture, "We all love you, kid... hell, _I _love you, okay? And that's not the kind of love that will disappear in a few months, its here to stay, kid, we all are, and I really need you to remember that." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Face's forehead, lingering as long as he dared before pulling back and climbing to his feet. "We need you back, Face," why did his voice suddenly sound a little odd?, "You know where we are..." And with that he turned and headed back to the camp.

By the time Face looked up after him, Hannibal was a tiny dot at the camp gates. Face wasted no more time in getting to his feet and starting off down the dune. The surfboard tugged at his ankle and for a second he considered surfing down the dune one last time, but he quickly shook it off. He didn't need that kind of high to get through the day, Hannibal was right, he just needed his buddies. And right now he had some serious bridges to build with them. He unstrapped the board from his ankle and threw it down Big Momma's side, jogging along in its wake as he headed back to his team.


End file.
